


Like You Do

by soulselfs



Category: DC - Fandom, DamiRae, Demonbirds, RobRae - Fandom, Teen Titans, Titans - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulselfs/pseuds/soulselfs
Summary: damian wayne and raven roth let off some steam while training and things get interesting.





	Like You Do

The sight before her is one to awe over.

Thin, pale pink scars run alongside Damian’s shoulder blades with faded stich marks. Raven, though she’ll never admit it, watches the beads of sweat blur the scars and roll down the curve of his spine at his waistband and almost feels jealous of them—jealous that they caress his soft skin and feel the pull and stretch of the tight back muscles. She wants to lift her hand and run it across the battle scars, kiss them away, and she wonders if his skin would be warm and if goosebumps would appear below the pads of her fingers where she touched.

His black shorts are too low on his hips, almost dangerously low, and Raven wants badly to know how his hips would feel on the palm of her hand or if they’re sensitive.

He lifts an arm to his neck, gripping the backside and arching his head to the right. The motion makes his delicate hands look more rough and large on the small of his neck and his biceps curl enough to make raven’s exhale shudder, piercing through the comfortable silence of the training room.

Damian’s head turns and he stares—only stares—with the prominent line of his jaw and the natural pout of his lips and eyelashes that dust against the high of his cheeks when he blinks. His eyes flicker with specks of white that flood from the moonlight bleeding through the window shades and something else, something a bit more mischievous and knowing that makes raven’s blood boil and her face heat. At times like this, Raven wonders if Damian can hear her thoughts, if he knows her too well to understand what the slight part to her lips and thoughtful eyes mean.

She denies over and over again in the thunderous silence of her mind that her heart has nestled into her throat and is beating loud enough to hear—to rush her ears with the angry truth that his stare, his always-knowing stare, makes her body react like it shouldn’t.

His gaze, as heavy as it is, reminds raven of humid afternoons when there doesn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the air and only sunsets that radiate heat and engulfs every corner of her body. It makes her chest tighten and ache with want and words that crawl up her throat that she swallows down almost immediately.

In his knowing stare, she always feels a type of vulnerable, like Damian can read her too well and she’s exposed her quiet, midnight thoughts for the world to see. Raven wonders if he sometimes feels vulnerable like that too, when he’s with her, and the mere drift of a thought makes her ears drum with the rush of blood and her heart roar in the hollow part of her throat.

However, of course, she’s too stubborn to say any of those things aloud, and if there’s one thing that she knows for sure is that Damian is just as stubborn. So, naturally, she does the one thing she can think of.

Raven lunges.

She lunges a fist full of punch in the air, her body rushing forward and aiming for those perfect cheekbones. She expects it, but she still glares when Damian catches her fist in his own. His warm hands encompass her and the pads of his fingers scorch the skin underneath, gently pressing Raven’ shaking hand.

In that moment, she’s close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off his chest, but a training match is something she’ll never lose to Damian, so she takes her other hand under and grasps his wrist that’s attached to her fist and swings him across the ground.

Damian lands with a grunt and his eyes open wider, lips parted as he gazes at the outline of Raven’s figure basked in milky moonlight before the pain on his bruising ribs become too prominent to ignore. He gets up to his feet just as she runs forward and the two engage.

It’s all grunts and punches, kicking, blocking and dodging in such a strategic way that they have learned over the years but with impeccable amount of fondness, as they know each other’s tricks far too well. They move against the padded floor of the training room as Raven blocks one of his throws and slices her hand across the air for a hard hit to the ribs that he is not expecting. It makes him double over, clutching his ribs, and for a second Raven feels like she’s gotten the upper hand, attempting to kick her leg to stammer his balance but then she feels strong arms encompass her waist and with a gasp, she’s suddenly upside down, her face to the back of Damian’s knees.

Beat.

For a moment, it’s quiet, and she wonders when exactly Damian became this strong but then he chuckles in a too smug, too mischievous way that makes the heat rush to her face. Before she can process it though, Damian slams her down on the mat and just as he’s about to tower over, claiming his victory, she rolls away quick enough behind him and delivers a punch for his face just as he turns around.

He catches it, again, blocks another punch. Raven knows that his ribs are naively exposed once more, and a single more blow to them will surely give her victory, but Damian quickly slams the flat of his foot to her ankle just as she delivers her punch.

Raven wonders if she has lost as she’s falling back, and know she has for sure when Damian falls down with her, towering over her with muscly boy limbs and a pained expression. Her back is aching for attention, and she knows the bruises are going to falter her in battle for sure, but she cannot help but noticing her current situation.

Damien’s arms and legs encase her entire body.

The exhaustion from training is enough to explain the red blotches appearing in her face as she blushes, the corner of her eye drifting to the side of his forearm where a bead of sweat rolls down. Raven’s brain does not register any sense besides the thumping of her heart and the sound of Damian’s heavy breathing and that bead of sweat rolling down his toned skin—before she realizes it, her lips are pressed to his forearm, a simple press and pout of lips on salty skin.

Damian quite literally stops breathing.

Her lips release from the kiss but they remain touching his skin, a ghost of touch of a soft plump of pink skin on a tan forearm. Her eyes are still closed and her expression must seem relaxed, must seem like pure bliss but she feels quite a bit of uproar happening in her mind as she processes what she is done.

Her eyelids open, revealing blue eyes that are a little bit hooded and a little bit nervous as they ghost over Damien’s expression. His eyes have unusually soft around the edges, but they are darker than ever and her flicks his tongue over his bottom lip—the action not unnoticed to Raven before he tilts his head to the side and leans down.

Their lips slot perfectly together, Damien encompassing her bottom lip in his own, warm ones that are smooth, soft, and welcoming. It’s almost too much for her to process, almost too much to take—the feeling of his tongue running slowly, experimentally over her lip before he sinks his teeth in gently.

When her brain reaches to her body, she’s suddenly moving her mouth against his, a slight pull and slight tongue begging entrance along his lips.

He sighs, in bliss, but also like he’s doing his best to hold back a sound.

Damian Wayne is anything but shy, but the way he’s delicately kissing, her makes Raven feel all types of fond and sweet things for this boy. It makes the image of him, in his uniform and fresh from a battle standing on the rooftop by the moonlight, alone. She wants many things, but she wants more than anything to strip him of that type of loneliness and treat him like a boy for once in his life instead of an assassin, or a hero, or the son of whomever.

So, naturally, Raven does not expect nor anticipate the small noise that comes out of her, a mix between a moan and a content sigh that makes Damian freeze. When his lips pull away slightly, Raven wonders if she’s done something wrong before she opens her eyelids hesitantly and meets his eyes staring down at her, devoid of color and stripped of any kind of shyness that remained.

She could live with this side of Damian. She could definitely live with confident, blushing, eager Damian. With pleasure.

Speaking of—Damian slams his open mouth down back into her and his hands grip the sides of his face, exhaling a deep breath through his nose. Raven gasps into it, chases after it like it’s air and she’s drowning—and she is, drowning in the heat between them and the goosebumps down her legs and the knot in her stomach that keeps growing as he runs the pad of his thumb alongside her jaw, her neck, her waist as if he has a time limit. As if he can only touch so much, as if he is afraid she’ll disappear somehow.

As if, he’s wake up to an empty bed and an aching, lonely feeling in his chest.

Raven makes sure he knows it is real when she sinks her teeth into his bottom lip and wraps her arm around his neck, bringing him impossibly close.

“Raven, I,” He tries to make out, pulling away from her lips like it kills him to do so and unable to stop himself from returning to the warmth of her mouth and the slide of it that makes his mind go numb. He tries to speak, tries with all his frustration to get his words across but all that comes out are content sighs and roaming hands across her belly and the sides of her neck.

Damian wraps his arms around her waist and brings her up to him. She stumbles onto his lap, straddling him and painfully aware of the way his legs feels under her and the press of chest-to-chest. When he tightens his embrace on her waist, she feels safer than she has in a long time, more willing to let go of herself for a while and forget about controlling her emotions and worrying about her mind.

He makes her feel that way.

So, she pulls back and looks into his eyes.

“I know,” She says, running her fingers down his cheeks, her heart flops when his eyes flutter closed, and lips stretch to a lazy smile. He turns his head and catches his fingers with his lips, kissing the underside of them gently and pressing his nose affectionately to her palms.

Raven plans to tease him for his quite random burst of clinginess, and the feeling of his shoulders releasing the tension that is always prominent in them makes her heart feel full and her throat knot. She leans down, and kisses him again, peppering his cheeks and forehead and nose with butterfly kisses that makes him chuckle into her shoulder before he nips at it, biting at the curve between her shoulder and neck.

Raven swallows the sound aching to crawl up her throat but then Damian runs his tongue, wet and warm along the sore spot before sinking his teeth into it again harsh enough to bruise. It makes her fist her hands into his shoulders and let herself sigh and an involuntary whimper breaks through her lips. His embrace tightens around her even more, their hearts beating in a syncopated, thunderous pounding with eager skin between them.

His mouth runs, sloppy with heat, alongside her neck and kisses the spot below her ear. Raven gets a fistful of his hair in her hands and pulls slightly, rewarded with Damian’s groan and the way his mouth falls slack against her neck. He pulls back roughly and slams his mouth back to Raven, practically growling when she pulls his hair again, biting at her lips and bruising them swollen.

She smiles slightly into the kiss at how eager he is as he digs her fingernails into her waist and then can’t stop from grinning widely when his hands roam beneath her black sports bra.

With eager fingers fiddling at hot skin, Raven knows she’s won this round.


End file.
